


Blaze But Know You're Never Alone

by Okadiah



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Fluff, M/M, Motorcycle Rides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okadiah/pseuds/Okadiah
Summary: After Yuri becomes irritated with Victor and Yuuri's displays of affection, he joins Otabek on a ride so he can calm down.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Blaze But Know You're Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teahex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teahex/gifts).



> A gift fic for teahex because they are wonderful and make me smile. Enjoy!

Yuri stomped away from the hotel, hot fury burning in his chest like it always did when those lovesick, drunken _morons_ had to go and make a scene again – not that anyone _stopped_ them. Chris only smirked and egged Katsuki on, and Phichit was _fucking_ Phichit. Now those two were all over each other and the others were acting like the entire experience was normal and fun and Yuri _hated_ it. If Victor and Katsuki wanted to do that stuff, they needed to go back to their own room, not muck everyone else up with their sugar-sweet and shameless PDA.

He scowled hard at the ground as he shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie and ignored how fucking happy the couple always looked, especially now that they were married. Like they couldn't get enough of each other _ever_. Like nothing else, not even the ice, mattered.

"Gross stupid ancient has-beens," he snarled under his breath as he continued to stomp down the sidewalk, unsure and uncaring about where he was going. "They have a _room_ for crying out loud, and—"

His words were overwhelmed by the sound of an engine, and the fact that he'd been muted made him see red. The fire in his chest burned hotter, searing him. He scowled, turning to the asshole that all but rolled to a halt beside him, intent on giving the rude fucker a piece of his mind when the anger abruptly subsided.

A familiar, stocky figure was now idling beside him dressed in leather and darker, cooler tones. Otabek lifted his sunglasses to arch a brow above a stoic face.

"Yuri."

Relief flooded Yuri before his shoulders relaxed and he rolled his eyes, giving the other skater a dramatic, exasperated huff. "They're at it _again_. I swear to God, if I have to see them suck face _one more time_ —"

The soft collision of something hard and round in his hands stopped his rant, and Yuri didn't have to look to see the familiar tiger-themed helmet Otabek always kept in his saddlebag these days, just in case. Just because Yuri was around. The unspoken invitation was clear, and he slammed the helmet on his head, buckled it under his chin, and climbed on behind the Kazakh as his friend shifted forward to make room.

Yuri slid on behind Otabek easily, relishing the moment when his feet were entirely off the ground and there was nothing grounding him but the motorbike and Beka, a strong and solid weight in front of him.

"Hold on."

His arms were already wrapped around his waist as Beka wasted no time merging back into the traffic, leaving the hotel and all that mushy crap behind them. Yuri didn't know where they were going. Frankly, he didn't care. The fire in his chest was still burning despite Otabek’s welcome presence and he was just so _angry_. Yuri pressed his face into Beka’s shoulder and closed his eyes to block out the world as he simmered.

Otabek, true to form, didn't say anything. He never did while they were riding except to give instruction or respond to a comment Yuri might make. Soon Yuri was sinking into the loud drone of the motorbike and the solid movements of his friend as he guided them through the city. It was a chilly day, but they weren't going fast enough to be bothered by it, not at the speed they were going. Not with all the traffic, and suddenly he was irritated again. Beka helped – he always helped – but his thoughts were louder than usual today, and the simmer he'd wrestled his emotions down to was igniting again and burning hotter. He couldn't calm down.

"Faster, Beka," he said when he felt them gaining speed. Given speed laws and general congestion on roads, it wasn't often that Otabek sped, which deep down Yuri thought was kind of cute from the quiet bad boy. But sometimes Beka sped just a little when Yuri asked him. He wanted to feel the chill of the air bite at his skin. He wanted to be distracted.

He was surprised when the engine revved loudly.

Otabek opened up on an empty road, and Yuri clung to him for dear life as a smile flashed across his face. He shifted closer, shamelessly tightening his hold on the other skater until he was all but molded to his back. Like this he could feel the strong muscles under Beka's clothes as they tensed and shifted, manipulating the bike further and breaking speed laws easily, just because Yuri had asked. Yuri's heart raced because this fast was dangerous. This fast was fun. Anything could happen, and yet with Beka driving he felt wild and free.

There was no one in the world he trusted like Beka, and he knew so long as Beka was driving they were both as safe as could be.

A bit of the heat and irritation from earlier watching those lovesick fuckers nipped at the pit of his heart again, and he resolutely ignored it when he could be feeling _this_. Speed. The bite of the wind. The roar of the bike between their legs.

Beka.

Usually when they rode, Yuri would keep his head up and watch the world. Chatter on and on about the irritations in his life and how much he wished Victor and Katsuki would just fucking retire already and get out of his hair. Or he'd talk about some new video he'd seen he was _sure_ Beka would enjoy or a new food they _had_ to try together. Inane things. _Their_ type of things.

But right now he didn't want to talk, especially now that the fire in his blood had been reined in by Beka and the ride. He didn't want to spoil it, and so he focused instead on the man in front of him. They were going too fast, the air was too cold, but he pressed closer and closed his eyes and could _just_ scent the leather of Otabek's jacket. He focused on the warmth of his thighs pressed against Beka's and how good it felt to just hold onto him.

That it was just the two of them.

It was quiet between them for a long time and Yuri let himself bask in the moment, shifting as Beka shifted, raw but calming as the minutes passed and the sky began to drift toward gentle twilight.

"Yuri," Beka said over the engine. "Look."

Yuri was so caught up as they all but flew over the road that he hadn't noticed anything besides the crisp wind that burned his skin and the solid heat of Beka in front and between his legs. But now that his best friend had said something, Yuri looked up and his eyes widened. Otabek slowed. The scream dropped to a steady hum, clearing the air. The burn of his skin eased, and it was fine. Perfect even.

They were on a road high above the city, just the two of them alone in the growing twilight, and below in the valley the city glittered like a jewel. The sky was painted in brilliance and just as soon as he saw the city, it vanished. At Beka's nod, he glanced to their other side where the large hills they were riding through had dropped and he saw a river all but gleaming silver in the evening light. It was cold and it was raw, and it was beautiful and everything Yuri loved about the onset of winter no matter where he was.

Yuri felt like he was floating.

Otabek wasn't speeding as much now, but Yuri didn't care. He was enchanted by the world around him, alone with only Beka's quiet presence to keep him company. Like this, there was no one to annoy him. No one to remind him about a world outside of skating and that he only had several solid years left before he'd be just like those has-beens back at the hotel.

No reminder that they were so disgustingly, sickeningly happy even without the ice, finding lives that didn’t involve the competition. Growing and moving on.

Yuri couldn't imagine a future like that for himself. He couldn’t imagine anything beyond the competition. The ice.

It scared him.

They rode for a while and Yuri enjoyed it as he held onto Beka and let the Kazakh take them wherever he wanted. It was cold and getting colder, but Yuri couldn't care less. Otabek was warm and they were both from cold climates. They could take it for a bit longer. He knew it.

A part of him would've been fine if the ride lasted forever.

But to his surprise he felt Beka slow down and then pull off to the side where he saw an empty outlook. Now that they'd stopped and there was no wind screaming in his ears or chill biting his skin, it was like the world had caught up to him, bringing with it all his irritations. It wasn't as bad, not when Otabek was here with him and they were alone. The outlook was nice with a view of the frosted mountains as far as he could see before they vanished into true night on the horizon, but there was still enough sunlight where they were to kiss their skin with the last rays of warmth.

As nice as it was, Yuri couldn't really see it. Instead, he tossed himself on top of the small manmade stone wall that divided the overlook from the small parking lot and crossed his arms, frowning into the sparse grass. Otabek joined him, sitting only a few inches away, close but not close enough to share his warmth. It made Yuri miss the bike. He almost opened his mouth to demand that they get back on, keep riding, never stop, but he was interrupted by the deeper tone of his friend's voice.

"What’s wrong, Yuri?"

The irritation he'd pushed down rose again, especially now that even _Beka_ was asking. If it had been anyone else, he'd have told them to mind their own business, but this was _Beka_. His best friend and the only person who _got_ him. It was impossible to stop the words as they practically spilled out.

"It's Victor and Katsuki. I just _hate_ when they get all mushy like that in public," Yuri grunted, lips pulling into a tight frown. "They're annoying. Why can't they just keep that shit to themselves? No one wants to see that!"

"They are quite close," Beka agreed as he stared out at the overlook, face impassive and hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

"It's irritating, and it makes them unfocused. Why would I want to compete against them when they're so into each other that they don't _care_ about training or practice. It's not worth it to beat them anymore. They're useless!"

To his surprise, Beka smirked at him. "Remember. The rest of us are here to challenge you as well."

Yuri snorted. "The others? Pathetic. They don't come close."

"And me?" Otabek asked, arching a brow though still amused around the eyes. The setting sun hit him just right and highlighted all of his best features. Yuri couldn't help but blush and glance away, thankful it was cold and he could blame it on the chill.

"You're different," Yuri said, trying to ignore the fluster by focusing on the irritation instead. He wasn't sure it worked.

Beka hummed and didn't press, and Yuri was both relieved and a little put off. In truth, Otabek was a challenging competitor and Yuri _loved_ that about him. But when he thought about Beka, it wasn't as an opponent he needed to beat, but as a partner he teamed up with. They were on the same side. Otabek was the skater he respected as a peer and an equal. Not one he wanted to overcome and destroy.

Like he’d said. Beka was _different._

"I think they look happy."

Yuri gaped, horrified. " _Beka._ "

But what if he wasn't so different from all the others after all?

"I do agree that their infatuation with each other has dulled their competitive edge," Otabek amended, shifting, and Yuri tried not to notice how their thighs were closer now. Not touching but he could feel the radiant heat between them there, if just. "But before Victor became Yuuri's coach they both seemed ... muted, and had for a few years. They look happier now, together. I'm not the only one who thinks it."

"Who _cares_ if they're happier now?" Yuri grunted, shoving his hands deeper in his hoodie pockets so Beka wouldn't be able to see how they clenched and bleached white. "They're ice skaters. We're _all_ ice skaters."

"But what about when we're not?"

Yuri glowered, hating that Beka had locked onto what was _really_ bothering him so easily. The Kazakh gave him a knowing look. Especially when Yuri couldn't give an answer.

"We are more than just skaters," Beka said with a small smile as he looked back at the view before them. "When I am not a skater, I am a DJ. JJ is married with children. Phichit enjoys photography and social media." He arched a brow at him, his smile edging into a smirk. "Even you enjoy your cat videos."

"Because they're cute!" Yuri defended hotly. They _were_ and Beka _knew_ it.

A soft chuckle slipped out of Otabek as they looked at each other again, and this time there was something there that made Yuri jolt. It had been happening more and more lately when they were together, this electric surge that shocked and embarrassed him but also made him want to be bold and drag Beka closer. He never knew what to do with the sensation other than ignore it. This was _Beka_. His best friend for the last three years.

Even if he sometimes wanted more.

"They are cute," Beka admitted. "But the point is that we are all human, Yuri. And we are not _just_ skaters. We are all more than that."

"I _know_ ," Yuri said as his gaze dropped, and he glowered. "But what am I if I'm _not_ a skater? It's all I've ever been. It's all I've ever _wanted_ to be, and one day I'm going to age out and retire like _them_ , and then what? What then?"

"Something new," Beka said sagely, though Yuri wanted to hit him for it anyway. "What do you want, Yuri?"

"To skate forever. To be the best," Yuri said automatically. This wasn't anything new. It was what he’d wanted since he’d first stepped out onto the ice as a kid. Everyone knew that's what he wanted.

"Sounds lonely."

Yuri glowered, but under Beka's steady gaze eventually the heat faded. He frowned and his shoulders slumped from where they were tight and drawn up. If this conversation had come up with anyone else, _literally_ anyone else, he'd have scoffed and ignored it. But Otabek was the champion skater of Kazakhstan. He was strong and brilliant, and Yuri was so fucking proud to be skating with and against him. Otabek knew what it was to win. To fight and struggle as hard as he could.

He knew what being the best was like. He knew what working so hard to _be_ the best was like.

"Maybe," Yuri finally admitted.

Beka hummed again before silence fell between them. After confessing like that, something he hadn't realized he'd been holding in his chest with everything he’d had, the silence gave him time to think and mull over what he’d said. Why he'd said it. He'd never been introspective; he just wasn't the sort. He was like fire and when he ignited, he burned fiercely. But since becoming friends with Beka, the quiet skater's ways had started bleeding into him a little. He always wondered what was on Beka's mind, and the thoughts often led him to wonder about his own mind. Not that he was particularly good at it.

But he did it more now. And it was enough to realize that, much as he hated to admit it, he was jealous of the lovebirds. They had each other now. They weren't defined by what they did while they were on the ice. He one hundred percent _was._ Yuri wondered if he always would be, and if he wanted that. He wasn't sure.

But he did know he didn't want to be alone.

Movement by his side drew his attention and he looked up to find that Beka was much closer now, so close, _too close_. The spike of heat on his cheeks soared higher and he held his breath. The setting sun was hitting Otabek just right again, but Yuri could hardly notice when his gaze was dominated by steady dark eyes and a solid presence. The space between them had shrunk. Their thighs pressed together, their hands were brushing and this close he could smell Otabek's subtle cologne, the one Yuri liked so much. The world shrunk again, blocking out everything that wasn't the two of them and this moment.

Yuri's eyes flicked to Beka's lips before catching his eyes again.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you that you are not alone," Beka said softly, the heat of his breath brushing his skin. "If you want me to."

Yuri's eyes were wide and he just ... wasn't sure. But he didn't pull away when Beka slowly closed the distance, giving him time to stop him.

He didn't.

Yuri wasn't going to lie. He'd thought about kissing Beka. Over the time they'd become friends, especially more recently, he'd thought about it a lot. He thought about it when Beka smiled at something he said, and he thought about it after they'd ended a video chat and he'd felt warm and happy thinking about their shared time, already looking forward to the next time they'd speak. He thought about it every time Beka finished a flawless, breathtaking routine.

It was happening now, and all he could think was that it was nothing like he'd imagined. Beka, he was so quiet. So stoic and steady that he'd fantasized that if they'd ever kissed, the Kazakh would be gentle and slow to contrast the fire that always burned hot in Yuri. A stabilizer to the inferno that Yuri always created no matter where he went.

Yuri was so wrong.

He gasped as Beka pulled him closer, a hand slipping around his neck as Yuri's gripped his forearm. While the initial brush of their lips had been gentle, the hot press of Otabek’s tongue startled him and the open-mouthed kiss and the tongue that swept against his own short-circuited every blazing thought he had into submission.

In moments he clung to Beka, drowned in him and everything he was giving him, and it was a long time before he realized that he'd been able to do little more than go along for the ride. A moan slipped out of Beka as Yuri started to give as much as he was getting, his blood heating at the unexpected life and assertiveness of his quiet friend and the kiss, it dominated everything. Through it they fought and enticed. Dueled and engaged. It was everything Yuri wanted and nothing he'd imagined.

But more than that, he didn't feel so alone.

Those warm, solid lips against his pulled away, and Yuri, mindless, followed them before he couldn't anymore.

Then he realized what had happened.

Heat flooded his face and he had no idea what to do. This wasn't his first kiss, far from it, but he'd never actually _thought_ he'd kiss Otabek. And he _definitely_ hadn't expected anything like that. The Kazakh stared at him, studying his face and Yuri didn't have the first clue what he was seeing or even what Beka was looking for. All he knew was that his cheeks were burning, his lips were swollen, and his tongue still tasted like Otabek.

And he wanted more.

"Beka," he breathed because he couldn't think of anything else to say. They were close now, pressing against each other, sharing heat though he couldn't feel the cold, not now. He still clung to Otabek's arm and he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what this meant and if it changed things, if it should change things, if he wanted things to change, but all he _did_ know was that Beka wasn't leaving.

Instead, Otabek smiled, his eyes lighting up in that way that made Yuri's insides flutter the same way they did when he mastered a difficult technique.

"I've been ... wanting to do that for a while," Otabek confessed, and it was then that Yuri noticed the faint blush on his best friend's cheeks. Beka glanced down, suddenly bashful though the smile didn't leave his face. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Yuri gaped then rolled his eyes. "What are you apologizing for? I didn't stop you, idiot, and why would I? That was the best kiss I've ever had, and—"

Yuri's jaw snapped shut as a blush stronger than ever flashed over his cheeks hard enough to sting because he _had not meant_ to say that. But it got Otabek's attention, his features breaking into surprise and what had to be hope. Then he smirked.

"Was it?"

"Shut _up_!" Yuri snapped, but Otabek was close again. His fingers were on his chin now and the touch of them was scorching but gentle. Yuri was embarrassed, but he didn't pull away.

But Beka didn't kiss him again. Instead he remained close like this, more intimate than he'd ever been before in the three years they'd known each other. Yuri was transfixed as Beka's eyes softened and his other hand took Yuri's free one.

"I also want to skate forever, Yuri," Otabek admitted. "I think we all do, in our own way. And while I want to be the best, the same as you, I also want more. Some of us do not burn as bright or as intensely as you do, that is true. But just because you _do_ does not necessarily mean that is all there is for you. The ice will always be there for me, just as it will be for you. There's more. If you want."

Yuri didn't know what to say. They'd known each other for three years now and he couldn't remember a longer conversation from the stoic skater. But it also meant a lot to him because he _knew_ that Beka chose his words carefully. Every single word mattered. He wasn't frivolous with them like Chris or Victor or Katsuki were.

Beka _meant_ them.

"I don't know anything else," Yuri found himself admitting softly. "I'm a skater. That's all I've ever been."

"And that’s what is amazing about you. You will never not be a skater," Otabek agreed. "But don't forget that you don't have to be only a skater. You don't have to be alone at the top. You can want other things too."

He huffed a laugh and his cheeks burned but he said it anyway. He'd never been a coward after all. Not like Katsuki.

"Like you?"

Otabek's smile slowly widened.

"If you'd like. Yes."

"And if I don't?" he posed, thinking of the lovesick idiots and how they were past their prime. How he was _sure_ they'd lost their edge and that was the _last_ thing he wanted.

"Then that is fine too. I won't pressure you," Beka said calmly. "I would like more, but I also want to see you burn as bright as you can, if that is what you want. I don't want to get in the way of that." His smile was the sincerest thing Yuri had ever seen. "You're magnificent. _Be_ magnificent. I just don't want you to feel alone."

Yuri didn't know what to say. He wasn't entirely sure he knew what he was feeling other than weightless. In awe. The sun had set and it was dark around them save for the solitary little pubic light above them that did _nothing_ for Beka's good looks, but it didn't matter. He felt like he was being seen for the first time. Like Beka understood because he _always_ understood.

"You wouldn't slow me down," Yuri said as he held Beka's hand tight in his.

"Why would I?" Beka said before he smirked. "Though I would never go easy on you in a competition."

"I'd _hate_ you if you did," Yuri said, suddenly grinning from ear to ear, the power of his happiness unstoppable. He leaned closer just as Otabek did, and it was like there was nothing wrong in his world. Nothing at all. Even the lovesick morons didn't matter, not now. Not when he was _seen_. Not when Beka _understood_.

In a moment he moved, straddling Otabek's hips before pressing their lips together again, this time giving as much as he received and all he could feel was happiness and relief. He'd been worried that anyone or anything else would turn him into a useless pile of mush but Otabek _wouldn't do that_. He'd let him burn as bright as he could. He'd stand with him. By him.

And Yuri wouldn't be alone. And maybe, once he'd retired and become a has-been himself, sentenced to a life of coaching new, brighter stars, he'd have something for himself too. Someone who would be there with him and a life that was more than just the competition and the ice. He’d have Beka.

It didn’t sound so bad. Not at all.

As a matter of fact, it sounded perfect.


End file.
